


How Holmes’ resurrection should have happened (according to me)

by Morgan_the_Lonely_Brick



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e01 The Empty House, Hugs, M/M, a lot of crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24982750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgan_the_Lonely_Brick/pseuds/Morgan_the_Lonely_Brick
Summary: The title is self-explanatory. I loved the episode, don't think Granada did anything wrong, they stayed true to the canon. I just have different ideas and expectations. But basically,Holmes comes back from the "dead" and both him and Watson are really really happy.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	How Holmes’ resurrection should have happened (according to me)

**Author's Note:**

> I cut down most of the dialogue, because Holmes just talks too much xD  
> My English is still shit, don't expect a lot.

I turned back around, just to see my long-gone friend smiling at me. He held out his hands and smiled wider, but I could not bring myself to move. Gray mist overtook my eyes and a moment after, I did not know about myself.

I woke up to the taste of whiskey upon my lips. Sherlock Holmes was standing in front of me, with a worried expression on his face and bottle in his hand. "A thousand appologies, my dear Watson. I had no idea that you'd be so affected." His other hand was carresing the back of my neck, holding my head straight.

"Holmes..." I said, too many emotions to handle comming to me at once. Tears began to fill my eyes. "Holmes..." I repeated, not believing anything I saw. I pawed at his chest, trying to decide if he was real, tears flowing down my cheek.

"It's alright, my dear Watson." He said with a good measure of emotion in his own voice and put his other hand on my shoulder. "I'm back, it's really me. I came back."

I stood up, unsteady, and fell around his neck, holding him as close and tight as I was able in my weakness. "Holmes. Holmes. Holmes..."

"I'm here." His voice was trembling. He put his hands on my back and stroked it. I felt his chin land gently on my shoulder and he pulled me even closer. "My dear Watson... I'm- I'm so sorry." His voice broke and sobs began to shake his body.

Now I was the one stroking his back. "Come on, now. I... I’m sure you had a good reason." I said, still crying with joy upon finally seeing him. After two long years he was finally here...

He pulled back a little and his hands stopped at my sides. I was able to look at his face. His gaze was low, refusing to meet mine. "When I was at the waterfall..." he started, sniffing away his tears. "I... defeated Moriarty. He fell down into the swirling waters... But I knew he had complices around. Oh yes, he had. I ran away to a place, where I could not be seen from most angles, but from where I could watch the spot I left my cane at. Then, I saw you, Watson. You called my name and- and-" He broke down into more tears and hid his face with his hand.

"Oh, come now." I pulled him close again and he returned the gesture weakly.

"Was so desperate to call back. So desperate. And you stood there and I watched you mourn me and I could not do anything without risking your life and mine."

I stayed silent for a while, closing my eyes and focusing on his breathing against my chest. It was rapid, irregural. "What... What you did was right. I was hurt. Oh lord, was I. I thought of ending my life, even..." Holmes flinched upon those words. "But everytime I was in such spirits, I remembered you. I remembered all the cases we’ve solved together, all the good we’ve done, all the dinners we enjoyed together and then the quiet nights at Baker Street by the fire, afterwards. I dreamed a lot of times, that we would meet once more." I pulled him away a little, just to look him in the eye. "And now you're here... I have not been happier in the last two years of my life. Truth be told... I was never really happy at all. Without you... I was not myself. You saved me, after the war and made me into the man I am today and when you weren't there..."

"My dear Watson, I am so extremely sorry." His gray eyes inspected every little bit of my face and then finally met my gaze. "I too, wasn't the best myself without you. Everyday I wanted to come home. Write to you at least. But I knew I would risk too much. I dreamed we met, just like you." He smiled, bent his head to the side and frowned again. "But not all is over, my boy." He let go and sat up on my work table.

"What do you mean?" I moved my chair to be directly against him.

"What I mean is we still have some rather nasty business to solve. Tonight, I shall hunt for Moriarty's last accomplice, that hasn't met the law. The tiger hunter colonel Moran."

"How do you intend to do that?" I folded my arms and leaned back in the chair.

"I will set up a trap. You will see for yourself. That is... if you come with me tonight." His gaze was pleading, but not violently.

"When you like, where you like." I answered with a smile.

"Ha! Watson. This is just like the old days..." He grinned back at me and wiggled on the desk. "That brings me to a quite important question."

"Yes?"

"May I sleep on that board over there?"

"There is no blanket there!"

"I do not mind."

"My dear Holmes, my bedroom is at your disposal."

"Oh no, this will do."

"I insist. You cannot just sleep on that. Come on." I stood up and gestured him to follow me.

He jumped down from the table. "If you say so, doctor."

I opened the door and moved the duvet away. He slid his shoes off and undressed his coat swiftly. I took it and put it on the door handle. Before Holmes could grip the blanket, I did, and pulled it to his chin, tucking the edges in.

He looked up at me with both confusion and gratitude. "Thank you." Then he closed his eyes with a relieved sigh. "A warm bed..." He turned to his side and I sat down on the floor next to him. "Will you be staying here?"

"Yes. Well... Maybe... I..."

Holmes laughed, sleep already pulling his consciousness away. "It's alright. I do not mind."

After two minutes, his jaw dropped a little and his breathing became regular. As he lay there in my bed ever so peacefully, his face relaxed and looking almost the same as when he left me at Reichenbach, I could not believe my eyes. I had to touch him to make sure I was not dreaming. I held up a hand, stopping myself just for a while, before placing it gently on his head. He moved, but did not wake up. Just as I had hoped. I began to stroke his black hair slowly, leaving the work I had to finish that day behind. I will do it tomorrow. I said to myself and with my hand on Holmes' back, I fell asleep as well.


End file.
